The Sun and the Rain: Our Moments
by EmmyElizabeth403
Summary: Sunshine and rain are known to make a beautiful thing. Little snap-shot moments in the life of Percy and Annabeth as they take on that impossible journey together. Chapter 14: "Percy and Annabeth had been on countless road trips in their lives—but never with two small children in the back seat."
1. Storm

**Author's Note: I got this idea a while back when I was trying to sleep during a tropical storm (Yeah, the Gulf of Mexico is like that). And who doesn't love Percabeth, really? So this is what became of that—the first in a series of little Percabeth one-shots. I know, it's done **_**all the freaking time**_**, but I wanted to try it. Tell me what you think, please.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson. Go talk to Rick Riordan about that. **

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1. Storm

Annabeth held Percy's hand in her own, absentmindedly tracing over all of the little scars that he had acquired over the years, her head on his chest. They didn't speak much; with them, there were times when no words were needed.

They were curled up on the sofa in their apartment, listening to the pouring rain beat down on the pavement outside, thunder rumbling and the occasional flash of lightening casting shadows across the room.

If she had been here alone, Annabeth knew it would probably have been hell trying to get warm in this drafty apartment. She would have been frozen. The beat-up radiator under the window had sputtered out again, and they couldn't get someone to come and repair it on a Saturday night; not that the old thing would have had much effect anyway.

With Percy here, however, she had no trouble at all getting warm. With his arms wrapped tightly around her and a thin blanket covering them both, she was as comfortable as ever. She sighed contentedly, burying her face in the crook of his neck and closing her eyes. He stroked her hair, rubbed small, soothing circles on her back with the hand she wasn't holding.

She fell asleep to the sound of the storm and the wonderful, rhythmic lullaby of her Seaweed Brain's breathing.


	2. Protective

**A/N: This is for annabethchase999, who gave me the word prompt "protective". Don't know if this is what you were imagining, but I think it turned out pretty well. Just a warning: this chapter is rated pretty definite T for teen (at least quite a bit more so than the last chapter was, I mean). Nothing too bad, but some mild language and adult themes. Let me know what you think! –Emmy**

**Disclaimer: Guess what? I still****don't own Percy Jackson. Surprise, surprise.**

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2. Protective

Percy's eyes narrowed as he watched them.

She was laughing at something he had said, and he was looking at her with a hungry look on his face that Percy didn't like at all.

He had seen that look too many times on guy's faces since they had started college at NYU. Percy was acutely aware of how beautiful Annabeth was, and, if the way that frat boy was flirting with her was any indication, every other male within a ten-mile radius of this library had realized that as well. Annabeth seemed to be the only person that _didn't, _no matter how much he told her so.

Guys—and yes, it was _always _guys—came to Annabeth for help with their classes, usually making up some sob story that Annabeth just couldn't turn away. It was developing into a pretty consistent pattern; Annabeth, of course, believed that it was simply word of her excellent tutoring ability getting around, but Percy knew better.

He was just glad that Annabeth was so oblivious to what was going on. He suspected that it had become a kind of game, a competition among the frat boys; a _"Let's see who's man enough to get into the hot Cali girl's pants!" _kind of thing.

And it made it Percy as mad as hell.

There were times when he had to physically refrain from punching their lights out; like now. Watching her, she seemed so innocently oblivious next to the frat boy, who was practically salivating over her. Percy clenched his fists, fighting his uncontrollable urge to beat this kid's ass into next week.

He wasn't sure what would've happened if Annabeth hadn't given the guy a polite goodnight, grabbing her books and walking over to where he was standing against a row of books with his arms crossed, still glaring at the frat boy.

She smiled tiredly, instantly brightening as she laid eyes upon Percy, her grin lighting up the room. Instantly, Percy's anger seemed to just melt away, and there was only her.

She put an arm around his waist as she reached him, leaning into him as they walked out the door into the cold night and down the front steps of the library. Percy wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head, grateful that she was here, with him.

After a few minutes, Annabeth stopped on the dark sidewalk, stepping back from him a little, studying him quizzically with her beautiful gray eyes.

"Are you okay, Seaweed Brain? You're not saying much tonight."

He leaned down, giving her a gentle, lingering kiss, then pulling back from her face and grinning.

"Yeah," he said, taking her hand again. "I'm better than okay."

Annabeth looked a little puzzled, but she returned his smile hesitantly, unable to resist.

They walked slowly through the empty streets to their apartment, hand in hand.

Percy didn't care about the frat boy idiots, not when he had Annabeth beside him. When she was with him, everything suddenly seemed alright—just one of the many things that he loved her for.

Of course, that didn't mean that Percy wouldn't quite happily beat the crap out of any idiot that came near her.

Although he sure as hell wasn't going to tell Annabeth that.


	3. Candle

**A/N: Wrote this in about ten minutes, so if you find any grammatical errors, let me know. Please, read and review. I could always use some constructive criticism, and suggestions for one-shots are more than welcome. This chapter is Rated T not for language, but for mild adult themes. Thank you! –Emmy **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson.**

3. Candle

They were both laughing.

They didn't know why; nothing had been particularly funny.

And yet, here they were, giggling hysterically like a couple of twelve-year olds instead of the twenty-two-year-olds that they were, just happy to be together.

A strangely lopsided, frosted blue cupcake sat uneaten on the kitchen table, the single candle still burning.

Of course, there was probably more blue frosting on their faces now than there was on the cupcake—just one of their many inside jokes, a birthday tradition between best friends.

To be honest, though, neither of them paid much attention to it now. Even after their laughter had died down, nobody was looking at the cupcake; not when they each had something sitting across the table from them that they found infinitely more mesmerizing.

Percy grinned, leaning down to tenderly kiss her on the cheek and tuck an errant blonde curl behind her ear. Annabeth, staring into his deep green eyes, threw her arms around his neck for a real kiss, sweet and passionate. He laughed a little, startled at her enthusiastic response, before pulling her in tighter and deepening the kiss.

Yes, neither of them paid much attention to the cupcake after that.

But as Annabeth was standing, pulling him to the bedroom, he paused for a moment, taking the time to blow out the little candle.

He didn't even bother to make a wish. Why would he? He had everything that he could ever wish for already.

"Happy birthday, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth murmured quietly in his ear, grabbing his hand.

He smiled, kissing her again and putting his arms around her.

As it turned out, they didn't end up making it to the bedroom.

And it also turned out that Percy was perfectly alright with that.


	4. Aquarium

**Author's Note: So, as you can probably tell, I wrote this in about five minutes. It's not my best, b****ut I liked it, so… (shrug) Anyway, this is mostly just filler while I try to get past my writer's block on my other story. As always, reviews and suggestions for new one-shots would be extremely appreciated. Thanks! –Emmy**

**Oh, and this chapter is rated K, easily. No language or adult content at all.**

**Disclaimer: Just… see chapter one. I'm tired of saying I don't own Percy Jackson. It depresses me.**

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4. Aquarium

"But Annabeeeeth…"

"No. How many times do I have to tell you?"

"Annabeeeth… Please?"

"Percy, for the last time, _no."_

"But—"

"Percy, the next time you ask I might strangle you. So shut up."

"…Annabeeeth, I—"

"Percy! I am not going to the aquarium with you. Not after what happened last time."

"But that was an accident..."

"An _accident? _Percy, they were looking for that dolphin for _weeks!"_

"Freddy didn't mind, though. He just wanted to go home—"

"His name was _Freddy?_ Who names a dolphin Freddy…?"

"His parents; Beatrice and Fred Sr. They're pretty awesome, too—"

"Percy! Just... forget the dolphins. I am _not _going to the aquarium with you. End of discussion. Now stop bothering me. I'm trying to do my calculus homework."

"…Annabeth?"

"Gods, Percy, I already told you—"

"But that's not what I was going to say…"

"Fine. What?"

"I love you."

"…I love you, too, Seaweed Brain. But I'm still not going to the aquarium with you."

"Annabeeeeth—"


	5. Apologies

**Author's Note: I just found this sitting in my computer, gathering dust (I wrote it months ago), so I did a little quick editing for my collection of one-shots, and voila: new chapter. I hope you enjoy it, even if it is a little cliché. It's Percabeth, and it's fluffy, so what more can you ask for? Reviews would be much appreciated. Thanks!**

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5. Apologies

"Perseus Jackson. I am going to _kill you."_

Now, Percy was used to Annabeth making death threats. Since they had met five years ago, he'd lost count of the number of times she had said that to him. But… this time was different. Something in her voice, the calmness, the way she enunciated each word, like she was simply stated a fact and calculating what the best way to carry it out would be.

Gods, this was going to be pre-meditated.

"Annabeth…" he faltered a little, seeing the look in her stormy gray eyes. "Annabeth. I'm—I'm sorry. You know I didn't—"

This was the first time they had been truly alone in months, not in front of a crowd of murderous-looking Romans or a hawk-eyed satyr. And apparently, all it meant now was that his girlfriend would get away from the crime scene without any witnesses.

"It doesn't matter, Percy! You've been gone _six months. _And I haven't heard from you _once. _You could have been _dead _for all I knew. Gods, why do you have be so—so—"

And this was where she burst into tears.

Percy just stood there, staring at her, momentarily shocked into complete silence. Annabeth _never _cried. _Ever._ She was too strong for that, too proud. Then, before he had time to even _try_ and figure out what had just happened, instinct took over, and he stopped thinking. He just gave her a hug.

Thankfully, she accepted the embrace, leaning into his shoulder and sobbing harder. He acted on relative autopilot, smoothing her hair, whispering reassurances to her. He was honestly a little lost on how he was supposed to handle this as a boyfriend. At least right now, though, for once, he seemed to be doing the right thing.

When she pulled away from him, eyes puffy, she developed a sudden interest in the properties of the dirt below their feet.

"I'm sorry," she murmured hoarsely, not meeting his eye.

Now Percy was really confused. He frowned at her.

"What do you have to be sorry about, Annabeth?"

She still refused to look up at him, staring at the ground dejectedly.

He touched her face, gently lifting up her chin. They locked eyes, and Percy marveled at how beautiful hers were, even when red from crying.

"Annabeth," he breathed. "Talk to me. Please."

She stared into his eyes for a moment longer before speaking. She sighed, grasping his hand tightly, as if she was afraid he would just disappear like smoke.

"Percy, I'm just… I'm just sorry. I shouldn't be angry at you. It wasn't your fault that Hera, that bitc—"

Percy cut her off quickly, glancing around as if watching for a lightning bolt—or maybe a killer cow—to appear out of the sky, "Yeah, I get it. It was Hera being her usual, um, charming self."

Annabeth rolled her eyes before continuing.

"It's just that, well, Percy… I—I missed you," she mumbled, blushing and casting her eyes once more as far away from him as possible.

He smiled, touching her face and tilting it towards his as he gave her a gentle kiss. She looked a little startled at the unexpected kiss, but slowly returned his smile, looking a great deal happier than she had at the beginning of the conversation.

"Yeah," he whispered, their lips only centimeters apart. "I missed you a lot, too."

And her brilliant smile at that just about made up for the death threats.


	6. Shopping

**Author's Note: I've been in a writing mood today. I've been at my grandma's all day, watching football with her and helping her yell at the TV like a good teenaged granddaughter should, and I had my computer with me, so I figured I would write some Percabeth. This was a suggestion from LeoLuver (I like the name, by the way). I love getting prompts, so any one-word suggestions you give me will be used. Please review, as a favor to me. Thanks, y'all! Enjoy! -Emmy**

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6. Shopping

He sighed loudly—again—as he tapped his foot against the linoleum impatiently.

"Annabeth, how much longer is this gonna take?" he whined.

She just rolled her eyes and continued flipping through a magazine as they stood in line waiting to check out with their groceries.

He looked around him, trying to find something to occupy his ADHD brain while they stood there. _How did people do this every single week?_

When he started walking toward a display of something colorful and shiny—he _would,_ wouldn't he?—Annabeth's head shot up, automatically scanning for anything in the immediate vicinity that Percy could get into trouble with. He seemed to have a talent for that. _Gods, she should not have to babysit her nineteen-year-old boyfriend._

"Percy…" she said, just as he started messing with the display.

"Hmm?" he answered, distracted by whatever he was looking at.

"Percy, what in Hades are you _doing?"_

"Umm…"

Annabeth sighed in defeat as the line moved up. As she started unloading the items from the cart, Percy moved to another display. Annabeth wondered whyshe had bothered to take him grocery shopping in the first place.

The cashier, a pretty brunette that was probably just a few years older than Annabeth, gave her a polite smile and added up her total. Annabeth was still looking over at Percy with a bemused expression on her face, something that did not go unnoticed by the cashier.

He chose that moment to walk over and stand next to Annabeth, still tapping his foot.

The cashier locked eyes with her in a silent, slightly amused understanding that went something like, "_Men."_

Annabeth smirked and shook her head, shrugging. Percy, completely oblivious to this exchange, huffed and continued to look every which way like a little kid trying to take in everything at once.

Annabeth paid for the groceries before loading up the cart and walking out into the parking lot, her boyfriend in tow.

As they started to drive back to Annabeth's apartment, Percy glanced over at her from the passenger seat.

"Annabeth?"

"Yes, Percy?"

"That was fun."

Annabeth almost snorted, barely able to keep her eyes on the road.

"_Fun?_ Then why were you acting like you couldn't wait to get out of there?"

"Well… I don't like waiting."

She shook her in bewilderment at his answer.

"I don't get it. So you like grocery shopping, but you don't want to have to wait in line?"

"I didn't say I liked grocery shopping. But I liked grocery shopping with _you."_

Annabeth rolled her eyes at him, even as a smile spread across her face.

"You are such an idiot, Seaweed Brain," she said, staring straight ahead.

"Yeah… But you love me."

She took a moment to reply.

"Yes. I love you, as inconvenient as that is," she answered, her eyes sparking with a teasing glint.

He feigned an exaggerated wounded expression.

"Gee, thanks, Annabeth."

"You're very welcome, Percy."

She had a feeling that he would be helping her shop more often from now on.


	7. Football

**Author's Note: This was another prompt from LeoLuver—thanks, dude (in the gender-neutral sense of the word… :P) for your ideas so far; feel free to suggest as many prompts as your heart desires (and that goes for everyone, by the way). About this chapter: I decided to switch up the traditional male/female stereotype about (American) football, because in my family, it's completely switched up. My grandma, my little 13-year-old sister and I (a fifteen-year old girl) are the only ones in the family that actually like and watch football, including my dad, my grandpa, and my two eighteen-year old brothers. And for some reason, I just don't see Percy as one of those guys that are into football, you know? Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, and even if you don't, please review! –Emmy**

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7. Football

"I still don't understand this game."

"How can you not understand—oh! Gods, what hell was _that? _They _so _got the first down, anyone can see that!" Annabeth groaned.

Percy shook his head in bewilderment, amused at his girlfriend's reaction. Annabeth had guilt-tripped him into going to a San Francisco 49ers game with her while he was visited her in California, sighing and saying that she didn't get to spend nearly enough time with him these days, with their colleges being on opposite sides of the country and everything. Percy, of course, had fallen for it—no matter that he didn't have a clue about the sport. It was kind of hard to keep up with that kind of thing when you were fighting for your life every other day.

Annabeth, on the other hand, knew _everything _about it. Not only that, but apparently, she got _extremely _aggressive about the game. Percy just didn't understand it. It was only _football—_a bunch of big dumb guys running around a field ramming into each other. She could see exactly the same thing if she went to watch the Ares guys train any day. Seriously, what was the big deal?

"Ugh… That was a _really _bad call. The officials must be blind," she grumbled, turning to Percy. He just looked at her skeptically, smirking.

She noticed the look, suddenly on the defensive.

"What?"

"Nothing. You just… get really into this, don't you?" he chuckled.

"It's a game of strategy, Percy. It's kind of like war, but less violent—"

"Less violent?" he interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

She ignored him, shooting him a quick glare before continuing.

"There are rules to it, always a goal that needs to achieved. It requires skill and thought-out planning to achieve that goal. There has to be—_no! Why _would you try to pass it to 24? There was no _way _he could catch that with that tackle all over him! That had interception written all over it!" she huffed, shaking her head.

He grinned, watching her closely as her gray eyes narrowed in concentration, darting around the field, apparently making several hundred calculations at once. Her blond hair was swept up into a messy ponytail, and she was wearing her red and white Stanford sweatshirt. She had on a pair of old, faded jeans that Percy could have sworn he remembered her wearing when they were sixteen, and like usual, she didn't wear any makeup.

And to Percy, she had never looked better.

She caught him staring at her, and Percy sighed as she took that opportunity to launch back into her rant on the merits of football. He decided that he really didn't need to hear any more.

So instead, he gripped both her shoulders, looked her straight in the eye, and said, "Annabeth? Shut up_. Please_."

Before she could protest, he kissed her.

As the crowd roared for their team, Annabeth didn't even register the touchdown as she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him in closer.


	8. Almost

**Author's Note: I just got finished with this huge history project, and I'm completely exhausted, but for some reason I just came up with this and had to write it down (in about five minutes) and post it. I know; it's short and depressing. It's not fluff. It's not at all cute and happy. And it's probably crap, as a result of my fried-to-a-mush brain and not being able to think straight from massive infusions of coffee and sleep deprivation. But I seriously don't care. So whatever. –Emmy**

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8. Almost

Percy hated the word _almost. _

He had heard that word too many times. It plagued him in his waking thoughts and in his nightmares; it tortured him every minute of the day.

It had taunted him every day of his life since that one fateful moment, the moment when everything had _almost _turned out alright.

It was the reason that he couldn't stand to hear the soft coo of owls in the night. It was the reason that he avoided walking past the Williamsburg Bridge in Manhattan at all costs. And it was the reason why a certain redheaded mortal now slept beside him_._

Percy hated the word _almost._

It reminded him that he had _almost _gotten her to safety in time, that he had _almost _told her how he felt. It was the whisper in the dead of night telling him how he had _almost _saved the girl he loved.

It was a constant reminder of his failure.

It forced him to remember that he had saved the world, at an unbelievably high cost. It let him know that everything could have been perfect right now, if not for one miniscule detail, one tiny thing that had caused _his_ world to come crumbling down.

His best friend in the entire world was dead. She was gone forever, and it was his fault— because he had _almost_ saved her.

But he didn't. And that was the catch.

Percy hated the word _almost._


	9. Snow

**Author's Note: It's so funny that this was suggested, because this is my first year living in a snowy climate, and on Friday it snowed for the first time :D So, yeah, I was excited, okay? I haven't actually seen real snow since I was little, which was forever ago, so… Can you really blame me? Anyway, in honor of my first real encounter with winter, I decided to use LeoLuver's prompt (again). I'm not entirely happy with how it turned it out, but whatever. I hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think! -Emmy **

**On a side note, "Sophia" (or the original version of it) means wisdom in Ancient Greek.**

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9. Snow

A little girl with blond curls and bright green eyes sat at the living room window, looking eagerly outside. She pressed her nose and fingers against the cold glass, leaving smudges on the usually spotless surface. Her mother, a young woman in her late twenties with the same golden curls, simply smiled indulgently and ruffled the girl's hair.

They sat together for a while, the little girl constantly squirming and pointing at things, babbling excitedly.

The woman glanced at her watch, obviously waiting for something. She sighed, pulling the toddler onto her lap and stroking her hair in an attempt to quiet her. The little girl squirmed for a while before finally yawning and settling down. She snuggled into her mother and quickly fell into a deep, sweet sleep.

The woman sat back and relaxed, resigned to letting the girl sleep for a while as they waited. She was beginning to drift off herself when she saw something that caught her eye: several small fluffy flurries of white crystals, drifting lazily past the window. The woman smiled.

"Sophia," she said gently, watching as her daughter stirred. "It's snowing."

Sophia groggily blinked around the room, instantly awake and jumping around when she registered this new development. She reached toward the window as though she was trying to grab a handful of little flakes through the glass, smiling a small child's smile of absolute delight.

"Look, Mommy! It's so pretty!" she exclaimed.

The woman chuckled, shaking her head, just as she heard a car pulling into the driveway. She stood and glanced out of the window, confirming her suspicions. She rolled her eyes as he walked into the house, grinning widely.

"Daddy!" Sophia shrieked excitedly, running to meet him. He knelt and gave her a big hug, picking her up and spinning her in the air while she laughed.

"Daddy, it's snowing! Did you see?"

He put her down and looked her in the eye seriously, still kneeling.

"I know, Soph. I told you I would make it snow for you, didn't I?"

She giggled, crossing her arms and shaking her head.

"Daddy, you can't make it snow! Mommy always says that your brain is full of seaweed," Sophia said solemnly, almost sternly, a mirror image of her mother.

The man exchanged glances with the woman, who was standing to the side with an amused expression on her face. He raised an eyebrow at her, which she answered with a smirk and a shrug. He shook his head and turned his attention back to his daughter, who was still looking at him disapprovingly.

"Well, Soph, I guess you caught me," he sighed theatrically. "It wasn't really me. You're just too clever for your own good. You must get that from your mother."

Sophia laughed and grinned, giving him a kiss on the cheek before running to the back door and starting to go out.

"Don't forget your scarf and hat, Sophia—your mittens, too," her mother called, making sure that she was bundled up before letting her out into the cold.

The parents stood at the kitchen window, watching their daughter play, running around with the dog—inexplicably named Mrs. O'Leary, for reasons that most people couldn't fathom—and making snow angels happily.

The women glanced over, raising an eyebrow at her husband for a moment. He met her gaze, grinning.

"Percy, please don't tell me that you did what I think you did."

"Well, that depends what you think I did…" he answered evasively.

She rolled her eyes—she seemed to do that a lot around him—and pursed her lips.

"You knowperfectly well what I think you did, and I'm really starting to worry that you actually did it."

"Well, so what if I did?"

She exhaled slowly.

"You're saying that you _did?_"

"Did what?"

"_Percy—_"

"Fine, Annabeth yes; I pulled a few favors with some friends. It's not a big deal."

"You _pulled a few favors with some friends? _If by friends you mean gods, then…"

"Well, yeah," he said as though it were obvious. "How else would I get it to snow in New York City in September?"

She rubbed her forehead tiredly, not able to resist a small smile.

"You spoil your daughter."

"Hey, she's yours, too."

"You are such a seaweed brain, you know that?"

"Oh yeah—always will be. You know you love it."

"Whatever, Seaweed Brain."

And they both watched their daughter play in the September snow with smiles on their faces.


	10. Pigeons

**Author's Note: I've been super busy this week, between basketball practice, homework, Halloween parties, family stuff, etc, so I really haven't had that much time to write. But here's something. It was inspired by one of my favorite old movies, "Barefoot in the Park" with Robert Redford and Jane Fonda. While I was watching it for the hundredth time the other day, the idea came to me for this chapter. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Please tell me what you think. –Emmy **

**Warning: Chapter contains very mild spoiler for Mark of Athena, one which I'm sure that you already know even if you haven't read the book yet.**

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10. Pigeons

They sat side by side on the floor against the wall, bundled up in their warmest clothes, staring around the dark room in slight dismay. Boxes were everywhere, stacked up halfway to the ceiling in a cardboard maze that seemed to swallow up the entire, tiny apartment—all 300 square feet of it. The paint was peeling, most of the lights either burnt out or too dim to be of any use, and they didn't have any furniture—but that wasn't even the best part. No, the best part was that so far, they had no heat or plumbing, either; on a lovely, twenty-degree, _February_ evening in Manhattan.

_Home, sweet, home…_

Annabeth exhaled slowly. She looked over at Percy, an expression of trepidation on her face. "So… Wow."

Percy smiled drily and without humor, sarcastically raising his eyebrows.

"'Wow' might be just a little bit of an understatement."

She winced, casting her eyes toward the floor and folding her arms around herself. Percy glanced at her, realizing that had sounded harsher than he had intended, and his expression softened as he reached for her hand.

"Hey…" he said gently. "It isn't that bad. We've slept in worst places—the example immediately coming to mind being Tartarus. This is definitely better than that, right? I mean, at least the birds seem warm."

They both automatically looked up to the skylight—which, of course, just _had _to have a hole the size of a softball in it, letting in the freezing night air—where a couple of pigeons had decided to roost to get out of the cold winter's wind, occasionally making soft cooing noises and fluttering around against the glass quietly.

As green eyes met stormy gray, Annabeth couldn't help but smile. Then, suddenly, they were both laughing, for no reason at all, and Percy put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. They laughed until they couldn't anymore, and then his lips were on hers, their arms wrapped around one another in the dark gloominess of the room. The setting was so _not _romantic it was almost funny, and yet everything suddenly seemed absolutely perfect. Their eyes sparked with something far deeper and more intense than humor as their embrace became more passionate.

They didn't really have any trouble keeping warm after that.

Quite a while later, bodies intertwined under several layers of blankets as they drifted off to sleep, Annabeth broke the comfortable, contented silence.

"Percy?" she whispered.

"Hmm?" he murmured drowsily.

"This isn't really how I imagined our first night living together."

He laughed weakly when he heard that, leaning down to kiss the top of her head.

"Personally, Wise Girl, I think it turned out alright."

And that was how their life together began: two insane college kids, curled up on the floor of a cold, dark New York City apartment, listening to the sound of pigeons up in the rafters. They didn't care about the apartment, really. They were together, and they had already proved that they could survive anything, get past even the most difficult rough patches, and escape from the darkest, most terrible places, as long as they were together.

They were going to be alright. A promise made turned out to be a promise kept.

_"As long as we're together…"_


	11. Purple

**Author's Note: I know, it's been forever since I've updated, and for that, I'm sorry. But here's just a substance-less little piece that I came up with out of the one-word prompt 'purple' given to me by The Goddess of Myths (like, forever ago). I hope you like it. I'm not sure how much sense it makes, but oh well. Please tell me what you think! Oh, and by the way: the obsession with purple and the purple stuffed cat named Pink Cat? Yep, those were inspired by true events; by "true events", of course, I mean my… rather peculiar little sister Claire's entire childhood. -Emmy**

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11. Purple

If there was one thing that Percy and Annabeth knew, it was that Sophia loved purple

Ever since she was a toddler, everything _had_ to be purple. She had to have purple clothes, purple toys, and purple shoes. She complained if she didn't have her favorite purple cup at dinner. In Sophia's confusing, childish mind, she couldn't survive without the color purple.

So Percy and Annabeth decided to humor her. They gave her the purple clothes and the purple toys and the purple shoes. They made sure she had that special purple cup every evening. Annabeth, in her good-natured attempts at what _normal _people called sewing, had even made her a lumpy, slightly misshapen purple blanket, which Sophia absolutely adored.

And for those early years of childhood, the girl's obsession with purple didn't seem to be a problem. Percy and Annabeth would tuck her in every night with the purple blanket and the little purple stuffed cat that Sophia had very affectionately and _creatively_ named "Pink Cat" (to the bewilderment of both parents).

Even though Percy and Annabeth had absolutely no clue what they were doing when it came to parenting their firstborn, it seemed to them that the love of purple was a perfectly normal thing for a little girl.

As the years passed, it seemed as though she had grown out of it, that it had only been a phase. Sophia grew into a teenager, a normal girl (as normal as a girl with godly blood in her veins could be), and, although she still liked the color, it seemed like the years of her obsession with the color purple were over.

Then, on Sophia's eighteenth birthday, Percy and Annabeth realized how very wrong they were.

And Sophia told them that she was in love with a Roman son of Apollo.

As if that wasn't enough of a shock, she then calmly announced that she was moving to New Rome.

So as it turned out, Sophia did indeed still love the color purple—a great deal, in fact. Jason Grace in particular seemed to get a real kick out of the fact that Percy and Annabeth's very own, entirely _Greek_ daughter had converted to the Roman way of life of her own accord.

Percy and Annabeth loved their daughter, so they learned to love that symbolic purple of Rome, too…

Eventually.


	12. Night

**Author's Note: Sorry that I haven't been updating very much lately (like anyone really cares :P), but I do indeed have some good excuses: I've been sick, I've been traveling, AND I've been working on my preliminary drafts for a new Percabeth story that I'm really excited about, which I'll hopefully be able to start posting soon (no promises, though). Anyway, I have lots more planned on the Jackson-Chase household coming your way, so stay tuned. Honestly, I'm not so sure about this one-shot, but I had the idea and wanted to get it out there, so… (Shrug). One-word prompt was, again, from The Goddess of Myths. Tell me what you think about this piece, **_**PLEASE. **_**Thank you so much! –Emmy**

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12. Night

"Why are you being such a jerk? What the hell do _you _have to be angry about?"

They were fighting. Again. They seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

"Annabeth, you're being unreasonable—"

"Percy, don't you dare even—" she exclaimed, trailing off and shaking her head in anger as she stormed around the house, picking up Sophia's toys off the floor seemingly at random and replacing them elsewhere. "No. I don't even want to hear this right now. Just… just go. It'll do us both some good."

Before Percy could respond, the baby started crying. _Again. _They could hear little Sophia stirring as well; the four year old was almost as easy to upset as her baby brother.

Annabeth closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she tried to calm herself. When she opened them again, they were just as stormy as before, but she simply turned to the nursery without a word to Percy, picking up baby Charlie from his crib and attempting to quiet him, whispering soothing words and gently rocking him in her arms. The dog, which had been lying watchfully in the nursery, looked at her pointedly, as if blaming her raised voice for disturbing his young charge.

Percy just sighed, going to Sophia's bedroom instead and ensuring that she fell soundly asleep again, stroking her hair and sitting with her for a few minutes longer than was probably really necessary. Finally, when he couldn't delay any longer, he gave his sleeping daughter a kiss on the forehead and quietly left the room, closing the door behind him.

He stopped dead as he observed the scene before him. She was just sitting there, head in her hands, at the kitchen table. The family's young Saint Bernard, Gregory Peck (they called him Greg for short), sat dutifully by her side, laying his head in her lap sadly as she shuddered, holding back tears. There was a half-finished drawing beside her; the latest building that she had been commissioned to design.

Now that he took a moment to really look at her, Annabeth seemed completely exhausted, even more so than Percy felt. He completely forgot about the argument for a moment, and sat down beside her at the table.

She didn't acknowledge him at first. It wasn't until he tentatively put his arms around her that she let herself be pulled into a tight embrace.

He didn't know how long they sat there in silence, wrapped up in each other's arms. Finally, she pulled away from him.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you, Percy," she sighed. "You know I didn't mean it. I… I'm just so tired. This is so much harder than I thought it would be."

And it was, for both of them. Percy and Annabeth were both dedicated to their careers, and for a while, it had worked out fine. Having Sophia was a challenge at first, too, but they had adjusted. But just as they gotten used to balancing Sophia's full-time care with work, Charlie had come along. It had been… somewhat unexpected, needless to say. But they had said that they could cope.

And they tried. They really did. They gave everything they had to do this, and still it seemed like the important things were falling through the cracks.

He took her hand. "I know, Annabeth, believe me. But we're in this together. And that's all that we need to be alright; you know that."

Annabeth smiled faintly in the dimmed light of kitchen, grasping his hand tighter.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, she nodded slowly. Tiredly, she stood from the table, yawned, and muttered, "Come on, Seaweed Brain. The kids are finally asleep, and here we are, not taking advantage of an opportunity for some rest_._"

He grinned teasingly. "Yeah, what's wrong with us, anyway?"

But Percy followed her lead, the two of them actually getting almost an entire nightof wonderful, much-needed sleep—before the baby woke them up again. They groaned and sighed and complained as they got out of bed and walked to the nursery; and yet, all of a sudden, none of it was quite as overwhelming as before.

And, for the first time in much too long, they _knew_ that they would be just fine.


	13. Memories

**Author's Note: This started out as a nice, happy little piece of fluff, like everything else I write, but as I was going, the muse had other ideas. If you don't want tragedy, then I recommend you don't read this one. And yes, I know… I'm starting to have a tendency to kill Annabeth in my one-shots. Sorry about that. But sometimes a little Percabeth angst is healthy... right? :P Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Reviews and suggestions are, as always, extremely appreciated. My birthday was yesterday (finally sixteen!), so do me a special favor and tell me what you thought. Thanks! –Emmy**

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13. Memories

He remembers the day he first saw her, at Camp Half-Blood. They were twelve years old, and the first words out of her mouth were meant to be insulting.

He remembers the battles they fought, side by side, as they took on the world together.

He remembers their first kiss, and their second, and their third. He remembers every single kiss since then, including the last.

He remembers the awkwardness of their first date, how after four years of being best friends they weren't sure how to be more than that. He remembers how quickly they had gotten over that.

He remembers how she had smiled when he asked her to marry him. He remembers the joyful laughter and the kisses they had shared when she accepted.

He remembers the way she had looked at their wedding, beautiful and radiant, gorgeous gray eyes full of promises.

He remembers the day that they had found out she was pregnant, how they had both ended up laughing together on the kitchen floor without a clue why.

He remembers their fights, the arguing and the yelling and the inevitable making up.

He remembers their life together, full of passion and love and laughter.

He remembers how short it had turned out to be.

He remembers how the worst part for her was losing the baby. He remembers how the worst part for him was losing _her._

He remembers the hospital visits and the endless tests, the false hope and the empty promises.

He remembers the first blond curl falling out, not yet tinged with a single gray hair. He remembers thinking that twenty-six was much too young to leave.

He remembers the smiles she would give him as best she could, how she was always trying to keep his spirits up as they were both forced to sit back and watch her fade.

He remembers the way the harsh white hospital room walls spun sickeningly and closed in on him as he realized that this was the one thing he couldn't save her from.

He remembers how, once, towards the end, he had screamed and sobbed and cursed the gods for what they had done to her, done to _them, _after all they been through. He remembers immediately beginning to pray to any and every god he knew, begging them to let her stay with him a little longer. He remembers how not a single one answered his prayers.

He remembers the night it all ended, her last whispers, their final caresses, the sudden dreadful monotone of the machines all around them and the awful cold of her slack hand.

He remembers thinking how unfair it was.

He remembers the piles of flowers and the awkward condolences, remembers how nobody knew exactly what to say. He remembers watching the silver shroud embroidered with an owl as it burned—the funeral of a fallen hero. He remembers the moment when he realized that this time, she wasn't ever coming back.

He remembers the dread that he felt as he realized that even though she was gone, he would be forced to keep living. He remembers not being sure how.

Because he can still remember the feel of her lips on his, and the way the she lit up the room when she smiled.

He can still remember the sound of her laugh, the exact shade of her gray eyes, the way their hands fit perfectly together like that was what they were made for.

He will always remember the moment that she was torn away from him, the same moment that he began to look forward to meeting her in the Underworld, how he still wants to be with her again more than anything else in the world.

And he will always remember the night that both of their lives were extinguished.


	14. Road Trip

**A/N: Hello, you lovely people! So I'm still alive, as it turns out. I know I kind of dropped off the face of the planet for a while there, but the other day I saw the cover of House of Hades and was bombarded by feels, so I looked through my reviews on this story, found a prompt I was inspired by, and voila! It isn't great, I know, but hopefully it'll get my creative process started again. Please tell me what you think! –Emmy 3 **

**Thanks to CaesarSaladWithLove for this prompt! (See, I got to it eventually…)**

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14. Road Trip

Percy and Annabeth had been on countless road trips in their lives, whether on quests, or with their parents, or together, just because they needed to get away. It was the only form of transportation that made sense for them, since Percy obviously couldn't travel by air, and Annabeth had discovered that she was prone to seasickness, in an ironic turn of events.

They had a lot of good memories of road trips together, from singing at the top of their lungs along with the radio, to all-night drives which usually involved a great deal of coffee and quiet, moonlit talks. From simply driving on the open road for a few hours, they both found a certain feeling of peace and tranquility.

Then, in a dramatic turn of events…

They had children.

Yes, Percy and Annabeth had been on countless road trips in their lives—but never with two small children in the back seat. They soon discovered that it was completely different territory.

Charlie, at four years old, was just starting to get a real kick out of constantly irritating his older sister; and seven-year-old Sophia, having inherited both her mother's intelligence and her stubbornness, wasn't about to take it lying down.

This left Percy and Annabeth having to mediate a full-out war the entire three thousand mile drive from New York to San Francisco.

Needless to say, when the Jackson family finally arrived at their destination, Frederick Chase and his wife were greeted with a couple of exhausted and extremely shell-shocked young parents (who both looked as if they had just come out of a warzone), as well as some energetic and enthusiastic grandchildren on their doorstep.


End file.
